Best Tung Poems
I am but a slave among lives hidden features
Who cares what I crave midst these two-legged creatures
I crave superb polish and fine furniture wax
Extremely strong wood glue and upholstery tacks
To be moved more toward the shade and less in the sun
To have a tung oil bath, ah, now that would be fun
I crave to be gently rocked and read to again
Like when grandpa was alive and Jimmy was ten
But most of all to stay in my room at the keep
And be warmed by the fire until I fall asleep
T he birds have been around for centuries.
H ow sweetly singing, winging on their way,
E vanescent as a summer breeze. . .
B ringing bliss supreme; then gone one day.
I n your bloom of youth, one bird appears.
R adiant, you’ll soar to splendor’s height,
D runk with joy till passion disappears.
S tung by love undone, you’ll face your plight.
A las, your bird has turned into a bee.
N aïve no longer, you have felt love’s sting.
D evoted love you’ll seek as remedy!
T hough you’ll wish to hear a new bird sing,
H eartache may await. You must recall
E ventually sweet passion’s birds become. . .
B ees! How can you know real love at all?
E yes open, you must seek a faithful one;
E phemeral are the birds and yes, the bees.
S till they will persist for centuries!
FOR PD's Acrostic II Contest
THE PHARAOHS
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
It wasn’t the Pharaohs that ruled the Nile
It was the priests that sanctioned their style
As long as the Pharaoh kept playing ball
The priests insured that he’d never fall
To make him acceptable to poor and unshod
They elevated his position to a living god
Scams have existed for thousands of years
They prey on ones greed and mortal fears
People have been duped by the glib tongue
Like Lenin, Amin, Castro and Mao-Tse-Tung
Cultures are swayed by the gifted speaker
Obscuring the facts from the reality seeker
Elections are stolen with factual distortions
Twisting the truth into diametric contortions
Demagogues and tyrants have little to fear
They just say what the masses want to hear
Independent thought can be a risky proposition
A word in the wrong setting can send you to prison
That kind of oppression can’t happen here
We’re a democracy with nothing to fear
They follow the polls ,the trends are clear
Our leaders will say what we want to hear
The Chinese tend to take the long-term view.
They do things differently in Old Cathay.
A thousand decades, almost to the day,
have come and gone. There’s really nothing new.
While foreigners fixate on Fu Manchu,
The Eastern mind sees things another way.
While we pervert, prevaricate, parlay,
the “chink” prefers to chew, review, construe.
“Since Revolution’s what you like to do,”
some western wag asked Mao in sixty-two,
what of the French?” (Vendée, Charlotte Corday,
the sans-culottes, et cetera.) “Your view?
A triumph, or disaster?” Like Sun-Tzu,
Tse Tung replied, “It’s far too soon to say.”
Zeitgeist - My 1960s - Liz Walsh
Kaftans, mini-skirts, Carnaby Street fashions.
Angel Delight, Hirondelle wine and that sheepskin rug.
"The price of round steak on a Saturday" while
Magdalen Laundries kept dark, dark secrets!
Nylon socks, Cuban heeled boots, body odour -
"it's always the girl's fault - she led him on!-
Button-down collars, civil Rights Marches,
Suspender belts old fashioned, false eye-lashes black -
Excitment, tights, "parents afraid of the new".
Stilletto heels crucifying, Rosary beads grumbling -
"Oh Sacred Heart of Jesus I place all my trust in thee"
Hamburgers, Fleetwood Mac, Anoraks - guilty! remember
Archbishop McQuaid! Bishop Lucey bullying Father Good!
"Wimpey Take-away" - meet a fella - womans lib!
Vietnam War, Albert Hall and Wilson Pickett.
"Would you kiss a boy on the first date?
Drip dry nylon, Dickie Rock gyrating
"Plastics are the future” the graduate said.
"Would you take the pill?"
Tayto crisps - "cheese and onion" munching in the dark.
Che Guevara, Mao Tse Tung and that little red book
In an empire line dress.
Church domination, contraception and major cigarettes
"Back-combing" Vesta Curries and a packet of smash
Maxi, mini, midi-dresses - pan-stick
Mary Quant, Twiggy and the Film Society party.
Flirting innocently, terrified hope - guilt ridden thoughts.
Surges of males, females standing
Eyes scanning, high pitched laughing
"Would you like to dance?"
Free love, flower power, heart thumping
Expensive shoes, a relic of St. Imelda and a chain-store dress -
"She will only get married” Miss Brigid Hayes said!
Afraid of the future, afraid of corruption
Brain exploding - ALL MIXED UP -
Blues clouds weeping pink rain
Skipping over puddles of pain
Headed to the apartment plastered with joyful stains
I just can’t complain when I’m with you every day it’s like the sun is playing my favorite jam
With strawberries in your hand
My fingertips sticky from whipping your lips
A kiss is never enough
Your hips just make me wanna touch
Drizzled by your mist
A mist full of bliss
I can’t hide the way you make me feel
Let's go back out into the tropical wild
Can we just dance out here for a while?
Blue clouds gushing out yellow rain
Will you be my love today?
The hours on the clock burst into confetti
Looks like there is no such thing as time
So in the meantime, I need you to fly with me to catch those stars aligned
The moon is magenta
This heart will never leave ya
This tung will always lick ya and never lie
You are the butterfly and the bee
The Matilda and the magic
The red rain and purple clouds
A dream I want to repeat
Blue clouds and loving rain
Lazy grass and a hand I can sustain
Potent flowers with rainbow veins
Hallucinations and feet rubs
Bubble baths and candle lights
Fantasies I just want them right
This colored rain set me free tonight.
A chance you armed as FOX YIN TUNG..
Trimmer chances will wangle out of laws.
Chance your arms are smuggle men.
Hong Kong FOX YIN TUNG had chance to come true.
Chance would be fine as there are only disguised laws.
Poorer grades are some dissembles.
Double faces will hide but fight the laws by tricks.
No perjury all are FOX YIN TUNG with sins.
Hong Kong FOX YIN TUNG also knows as Henry Fox by English names.
Miracle smuggle products earn a lot for legal charms illegally. Electronics also medicines load to boats and there may be drugs or heroin.
Henry Fox had bought and sold..
Bills and fames and poses are surest bet in FOX YIN TUNG life.
Henry fox had passed away. He also becomes our famous china official congress men when he came to senior ages.
True to say a man and family who smuggle goods and merchandises must try to take a pose as triad gangs.
-----------Cheung Shun Sang=Cauchy3--------
The end dear friend is just the entry and he pointed, but he never meant me, it was the old man sat inside me that the message was intended for.
I sat and wondered about the door and what was it the entry for and could it be he meant me after all?
Then the timepiece changed into a watchtower and it changed back on the hour, every hour
what tricks these eyes can play
what puzzles and to blind.
In the end I wouldn't mind a new beginning
somewhere with a decent climate
and
slightly South of the equator
where I could do a baked
potato
on the rocks.
but don't worry
they'll twin you with a town up
in the Pyrenees
which
you'll find out
will be full up with
the Chinese who'll
be
making origami
chewing gum from
Sorghum and
reciting verses from a book
by ...tse Tung
The end is just a fixture
another game we play
away.
Spring,Sprang,Sprung
You stepped in elephant tung
Chip,clip,clasp
Oh how I did laugh
Fling,flang,flung
I fell in the elephant tung
Chip,clip,clasp
Now you did laugh
Now if it was just for a bit you heard
The joy from within my silly little words
I hope that upon your face
A big smile has been placed
Famine Foretold
(Stalin, 1930, 30 million, and Mao Tse Tung 1960, 42 million, et al)
The land is the lord of men who live
Near yellow and lime-green fields,
Who plant it and till it and gladly give
All their toil, for crops it yields.
Dictators forced them to the modern way,
Profaning ancestral farms,
The land did avenge itself one day
With the prophesied, ancient harms.
Love-sick
Like so many things in life, this is funny
There is this girl, I think,
In my mind she is bursting with laughter and over-flowing with love and affection,
Sunny.
She isn’t with me now, literally, two towns separate me from her.
I am junky in withdrawal, I tap my vein, but she is in somebody else’s pocket.
Paranoid.
She says she loves me, but never have I been more aware of the lack of literal substance of words
As they gush, easily, invisibly, past the lips of the person I would die for.
Weirdo.
Its 60-40, I would go further for her than she would for me, in my head,
She says she loves, opposite me, around my waist, into my eyes, onto my lips and along my tung,
Love.
Definition, life is about definition, about our personal definition of everything, always, and
Our calculated manipulations of others definitions of everything, always,
Maths.
2+2 doesn’t make four in love, for me, for her, it does,
Reason and logic desert my body and I become a tool of her desires, she never exploits,
Idiot.
My minds walls turn to foamy adolescence, insecure piles of idiocy and shaky characteristics,
Are a rising and a falling at her every un-meant whim.
The ear testing people in trouble,
On their desks making hearing evaluations,
With the aid of many instruments,
Inviting sound waves one after one like Tsunami-
Tang,ting,tung tones,
Giving their time hurry,
Taking our's free,
Without learning the know how,
From the flying Mosquitos-
The top hearing evaluators on the job,
In seconds and free of charge,
In regular intervals of changing monsoons!
Morose, hollow cheeks
Crumbs blown by the wind,
An unknown badge on an old cap,
Hiding brown wisps, flattened to the skull.
Bare walls, ugly colour.
Skin worn thin
Sunken eyes on a radiating screen
Faltering fingers on keys.
Hating breath, cracking voice,
Tung on constant display
A glance to the window,
A bird caws.
Plastic cap on fresh laces,
Rustling by my side,
My soul recoils,
A man, the death of god.
A faultless bottle by his side.
We ball then bawl
We rode the lone road
as dears that dare
each goading each's gold
up devil's stairs we stare
out to red herring's sea we see
waves of rungs that wrung
like killer bees we be
tung twigs slipping his tongue
he's a heel that's never healed
spouts the whale and her wail
but as bees spill more spiel
she becoming pale kicking his pail
she took pain from his window pane
tears dropping the glass tiers
till she reigned his clouds of rain
no longer his deer poke or dear
misery's won and they're back to one
what's don is now done?
connie pachecho
4/25/17
A pattern from our history - albeit anecdotal
Pick any evil SOB - he's probably teetotal
Hitler didn't touch the booze, and neither Torquemada
Bin Laden with a drink to choose took yak's milk - nothing harder
Pol Pot too forsook the brew, Bieber was too young
Stalin may have had a few but not your Mao Tse Tung
Donald Trump, of president's the Idiot du Jour
He may love your blandishments but not a heavy pour
Risking some hyperbole but very plainly stated
You can shove sobriety it's clearly over rated
If we're all to get engaged in evil's true demise
Don't waste your time getting enraged - here's wisdom from the wise
To rid their inhumanities, step back awhile and think
The course to alter history's to buy that man a drink